Page 16 of Promised To the Orc
I can’t risk him getting this weapon.
“I will forge weapons and armor for you from the orichalcum. But that’s as far as I’ll go. I will not marry your son.”
Tor rises from his chair. I can’t stop myself from looking at him. He rises to his full height, his shoulders straight and broad, the muscles on his chest conforming against the thin material of his shirt. His hair flows freely around his shoulders, with two braids hanging behind his left ear. Even with only one tusk, and the deep, jagged scars on his face, he looks fiercely intimidating. I long to race over to him, go behind that enormous body, letting it protect me and shield me. If only I could trust him. If anything, my distrust just blossomed.
Did he ask his father to corner me into making good on the promise I made so long ago?
No. That’s not who Tor is. I can’t shake the longing I have for him. To stand beside him, be with him, and get to know him again. It’s as if I’m being continually pushed toward his side, but I’m resisting. Imustresist, at least, until I know his true intentions.
Even if Tor is true, binding myself to him means trapping myself inside the king’s village. It’s a different prison. Would I ever be truly free? Would the king even keep his promise to keep all humans safe? I don’t think so. No matter what I do, I suspect the king will never keep his word.
“Father, you could have discussed this with me first.”
“Why waste my time? I’m offering you a bride. See the way you look at her. You should thank me. We’ll hold the wedding in front of all the clan leaders during the Great Feast and show them all this new alliance.”
A muscle jumps in Tor’s cheek. “I won’t have her against her will.”
The king pushes his plate away with great fanfare. “This is the problem with you, Tor. This is why I should have hadanother son! How she feels is of no regard. She is human, and she is female, and she is at my mercy. You take what you want, Tor, without apology, and you crush it until it conforms to your will. Just as I did with your mother.”
Tension crackles between the men. I feel it sparking against my skin and the air grows thick with impending violence. Even the king’s guards move a little closer, as if they’ve had to get involved before after a similar conversation. Tor changes before my eyes, his muscles widening, his spine straightening with his fury. His eyes glow with the light I’ve never seen. And the sword vibrates so violently against me it shakes the scabbard.
“Not this again, Tor. You were always too soft for your mother. Don’t make me throw you into the pits.”
“You were never worthy of her.” He says the words in a seething whisper that sounds like water hissing and boiling over a reaching flame. I’m not sure if his father even hears him and is probably for the best. Tension ratchets in the air as Tor steps away from the table and squares up to his father. The back of my neck prickles. I need to do something before there is bloodshed.
“I would like to have some time with Tor to discuss the proposition.”
Neither man looks at me. They locked their eyes on each other.
“Is this when you finally attempt to kill me?” The king mocks.
Tor’s mouth stretches into a humorless grin. “Is that why you force me to stick to your side? Because you’re afraid I might try to kill you? Keep your enemies close so you can see them, right father?”
The king rises from his chair, his fingers stapled on top of the table. “Are you declaring yourself an enemy of the king?”
“You treat me as such, so I will allow you to make that conclusion.”
The men are facing each other now, mere inches apart. The guards move closer, each with hands on the hilts of their swords. Gripping the scabbard tightly, I whisper to the sword to stop shaking. I can’t let it out… Which sounds baffling, as if the sword has a mind of its own. It does, but it doesn’t. Orichalcum is temperamental, but it’s not sentient. Except, this weapon has behaved differently from the moment I dipped it in the powdered crystal.
Maybe it did more than give it flame…
Without thinking, I draw the sword. I have no control as my arm jerks above my head and the sword points to the ceiling. A high-pitched keening comes from the metal. The room goes completely still. Tor and the king look at me, dumbfounded.
“I said that I’d like to speak to Tor about the proposition.”
My voice shakes almost as much as my arm. Carefully lowering it to my side, I slide the sword inside the scabbard and adjust it on my back. Anticipation gnaws at my insides as the king watches my every movement. He’s going to ask me for the sword and that I’m going to have to kill him.
There’s no way he can get his hands on this weapon.
Tor clenches his eyes for a moment and lets out a breath. He strides towards me and takes me by the arm. “Come with me.”
I don’t argue but follow along, glad to be away from the king.
“Thank you,” I blurt. “I was afraid he was going to ask for the sword.”
Tor whisks me from the dining room and into the hall, all but drags me through the palace and outside. We enter an elaborate garden with groomed hedges and flowers of every color, but Tor doesn’t pause so I can look around. He pulls me through until we come out on the other side and exit a hand carved wooden gate. The village sits just below a small hill. Smoke comes from chimneys, and the sound of children laughing filters through the air.
“Where are we going?”
